Star Wars_ The Old Republic_ Revan - Drew Karpyshyn [76]
“I know this man,” she said, her voice grim. “His name is Revan. He’s a Jedi and a Republic spy.”
“A Republic spy?” Scourge’s brain took the news and jumped to the next logical conclusion. “If the Jedi know we exist, they will come for us. They will try to finish the extermination of our species that they began in the Great Hyperspace War!”
“Our existence is still hidden,” she assured him. “Revan and another Jedi—a man named Malak—discovered Dromund Kaas by accident. They were captured before they could return and report their findings to the Republic.”
“When did all this happen?”
“Five years ago. The Emperor sentenced Revan to death.”
“Then what’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Nyriss admitted. “But he couldn’t have escaped the citadel’s dungeons unless the Emperor allowed it. It stands to reason that he wouldn’t still be alive unless he was working for the Emperor.”
“How is that possible?” Scourge countered. “The Jedi are our sworn enemies.”
Nyriss didn’t answer. “Watch him closely,” she said, returning to the pilot’s seat. “He is powerful and extremely dangerous.”
“Why don’t we just kill him?”
“Not yet. Not until we know why he is here. We’ll take him back to my stronghold for questioning.”
“I’ve never interrogated a Jedi,” Scourge said after a moment. He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
REVAN HAD NO IDEA where he was when he awoke, though it was obviously some kind of prison cell. He was propped up in a cold metal chair. His hands were bound to the arms, his ankles tied to the legs. For the moment, he was alone.
His mind felt slow and dull, and he knew he’d been drugged. It was difficult to concentrate; impossible to focus his thoughts enough to use the Force. It took all his willpower just to recall the last moments of the Ebon Hawk crashing on Nathema.
He struggled to take stock of his situation, but he couldn’t pierce the haze of the drugs.
The door to his cell slid open and two figures entered, one male and one female. The sight of their red skin tweaked something in his addled brain, but it took several seconds before he could make the connection.
“Sith,” he whispered, his throat dry and his voice hoarse.
“Welcome back, Revan,” the female said in Basic.
He stared at her withered, wrinkled face, trying and failing to dredge up her name. “Do I know you?”
The tall male Sith beside her reached out with a hand and casually delivered a backhanded slap across Revan’s cheek. “We don’t have time to play games,” he said. His voice wasn’t angry or threatening; it was calm and completely matter-of-fact.
Revan tasted blood; the smack had cut the inside of his mouth. He could feel the sting of the wound and the swelling of his lip. Apparently the drugs used to dull his mind had been carefully selected so they would not interfere with the sensation of physical pain.
“I don’t think this is a game,” the female said, raising an eyebrow. “I think he’s actually forgotten me.”
She leaned in close beside him and whispered in his ear: “What happened to you, Revan? Where did you go? Why did you return?”
When he didn’t answer, she stepped back and nodded. Then she waved a hand and an interrogator droid—Revan hadn’t even noticed it hovering behind the two Sith—floated over and extended a long, thin needle into his neck.
He grimaced in pain as the needle punctured his skin, then screamed as it discharged a powerful electrical burst, setting his nerves on fire.
The Sith male waved a hand and the interrogator droid retreated.
“What happened to your partner?” he asked. “Malak?”
“I killed him,” Revan said.
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
The male’s expression didn’t change, but the female smiled in amusement, the expression transforming her wrinkled features into those of a grinning skull.
“Eventually you’ll tell us everything we want to know,” the male assured him.
“Maybe so,” Revan conceded. “But I’m going to make you work for it.”
AFTER FOUR HOURS of questioning the prisoner, Nyriss ordered Scourge